


Footage

by AryaGEN



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Chapter 3 is alternate/post 3x08, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fighting and Kissing, Fluff and Angst, Patching holes and bailing water from the Fitzsimmons ship, post 3x05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:35:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5134859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaGEN/pseuds/AryaGEN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on the gut-wrenching 3x05 and what it means for the Fitzsimmons ship and attempt at patching our battered hearts. Simmons finds the footage of Fitz in front of the Monolith amongst his research and they talk about what they will do after bringing Will back. Three-Shot! Finished. Chapter 3 includes the brilliant 3x08 scene with a happier (and hopefully more emotionally fulfilling) ending. ***NOW WITH EPILOGUE</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Simmons

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! (part-time)! Long term followers of my works will know I have, at various points, suffered from extended periods of serious illness and will be thrilled to know that I am recoverinG. The final chapters of "Hero" and "Different Now" have been begun as well as significant progress towards the next part of "A Thousand Leagues." "You wouldn't be..." has the most work to go.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy my attempts to handle the post 3x05 (and while I probably should've spent these words on my other fics, I thought this was more important - it got me back into writing properly.) I've been out of the game a while folks so some reviews would be really nice as I fear my writing's a little rusty.
> 
> (I've never had a Beta)

Tears stung in her eyes as Simmons rewound the footage of Fitz collapsing to his knees in front of the Monolith; she watched helplessly as he smashed his hands repeatedly against it before being dragged away by Mack just moments before it opened. There was no audio but there didn’t need to be, the pain etched on his face was clear to see and the way his body shuddered as he released his rage gave a voice to his silent shouts. The sight of him, shotgun in hand, storming towards the Monolith not knowing if it meant his own death, broke her heart. Her breath hitched in her throat at the realisation that like her he must have given up as well: except where she had turned away from him to survive he had _given up on surviving without her._ She knew he thought it was a portal even when he walked into the chamber but the knowledge that he would risk everything to see her again made her feel sick with guilt. She had read through everything – every report and scrap of information he had gathered about the portal and her whereabouts – she understood the hell he had been through to get back to her; even though he had been surrounded by people, she was sure he had felt as alone as she had – if not more so since she had met Will.

 

Even before she had been pulled into the portal Fitz had set up the cameras in containment to record every instance of the Monolith opening with twenty seconds either side; six and a half months of largely identical footage was stored and meticulously scrubbed for any changes from the moment she was sucked in to the moment Mack and Daisy had the portal carted out and loaded onto Zephyr One. Most of the clips differed to such a small extent only the computers could detect variations but every so often members of the team – usually Fitz – would appear, sometimes taking readings from the other side of the glass, sometimes pacing in front of it as though she would come bursting through at any moment but the worst times were when he simply sat cross-legged in front of it and stared. The glimpse into his life was devastating – to have the answer to his questions right in front of him but to be utterly unable to reach a solution without taking that extra step into the case. In the early recordings it wasn’t uncommon to find Coulson or Daisy standing in front of the case as well but soon Fitz was the only one left to keep coming, by the third month even he stopped – she guessed it must have hurt him too much to be there. The day he burst in with the shotgun was the first time he had been there in weeks.

 

Watching the recordings was the last thing she had to do before she was up to date on all of his findings. His research was extensive and thorough, as only Fitz’s research could be: it was the culmination of a six month desperate search to find answers to an impossible problem. Every thought, every angle she could’ve imagined – and a fair few besides – had been taken as far as it could go. Initially the documents were set out neatly, Fitz’s messier than usual handwriting the only real sign that anything was wrong, but as she had delved further into his notes she could see the true toll the search was taking on him. She guessed that in the early days Fitz’s scientific mind kept him as grounded as hers had on the planet, it was only after he had flown out to New Mexico, San Francisco and London that the nature of his observations began to change. His ideas were no longer laid out formally but hastily scrawled on the back of whatever appeared close to hand; some of it she understood, some of it she didn’t.

 

Amongst his scribblings she found reports and files, some handwritten some official – most notable of them Eric Selvig had supplied close to thirty pages of information on the composition of the portals in New Mexico and in London but other documents detailed events she hadn’t heard of including continued references to the Pym Technologies disaster. The more she read through the harder she found it to continue; sometime after the third month he had switched from approaching the problem scientifically and began to trace the Monolith’s history instead. She had to wonder at how he had uncovered much of what she was seeing: carefully annotated maps and chronologies of Germanic tribes in Ancient Gaul from the archives of the Faculty of Classics, Cambridge University were stacked next to copies of missing persons reports and children’s stories written first in Latin and then in early French. Barely legible copies of shipping records from the late 17th century suggested Fitz believed the Monolith to have been transported to England but she couldn’t make much sense of them herself. She knew from where he had crossed over to find her that it must have spent time in Gloucestershire but she couldn’t find anything in his notes that would have led her to that conclusion.

 

It was when she had seen self-bought plane tickets to Mosul Iraq and Tangier Morocco as well as careful research on critical members of Islamic State – including one Yusef Hadad – that she realised how much danger Fitz had put himself through for her sake. He had travelled to meet known terrorists without backup at the risk of being kidnapped or killed just to find a scrap of papyrus that told him what he must have been beginning to think – that she was dead. Her stomach lurched at the idea of what he must have been going through, isolated from her and the rest of the team while she played house with Will worlds away. As she watched the footage of him smashing his hands on the Monolith she could hardly believe that he was the same shy boy she had met at the Academy so many years ago, and that this was the world they lived in now. She didn’t know how long she had been sitting staring at the same looping clip but the tears that had at first fallen freely had stopped, dried and left her cheeks feeling raw.

 

“Jemma.” His voice was soft behind her, his concern shining through it. She couldn’t look at him, not after seeing the pain he’d been through once on her count and the additional hurt she’d inflicted every second since she got back. After a few more seconds of silence he put his hand on her shoulder and she instinctively grabbed it.

 

“I…” She started but try as she might she couldn’t think of anything to say. She could almost have laughed if she wasn’t so exhausted.

 

“It’s okay,” he said and she wished she believed him. “We’ll get him back.”

 

She had to fight to hold her composure. “I’ve missed you Fitz… so much…” She said in little more than a whisper as if afraid her voice would break if she spoke any louder. She was squeezing his fingers like a lifeline but still not daring to turn around to look at him, afraid of what she’d see when she did. She didn’t think she could stand to see the mask he wore to hide his pain – the one he’d worn around her for years before she’d even noticed and that had hardened after HYDRA and everything since.

 

“I missed you too Jem.” He answered but his words felt restrained, divorced from emotion as though coldly recited to a stranger. It was too much.

 

“I’m so sorry Fitz.” She finally blurted out and pressed her cheek into his hand, tears once again flowing freely. She felt him tense behind her as she brought his palm to her face.

 

“Jemma.” He said softly enough though there was an underlying hardness to his tone. He moved forwards slightly and she found herself aching to be closer to him, wishing the back of the chair would vanish so she could press into him, that he would bring his arms around her chest and tell her it would all be alright, to feel his jaw on her shoulder and his breath against her neck. She wished he would tell her despite everything that he still loved her or even that there was a chance he could come to love her again, because how could he now after all she’d put him through?

 

The embrace never came though and, disappointed, she turned to steal a glimpse at him, trying to ignore the way the stubble on his jaw made him look older and less boyish. His eyes were staring past her and it was all she could do not to sob when she saw how haunted he looked; he was watching the footage of him breaking down in front of the Monolith. For a few moments he didn’t do anything at all and then all too quickly he pulled his hand away from her and turned around to leave.

 

“Fitz.” She said, panicked and standing up to follow him.

 

“Did you mean it?” He answered coldly, his back to her.

 

“Mean what?” She asked, her mind practically begging him to turn around and face her.

 

“At the restaurant…” Her heart froze, “When you thanked me for rescuing you… W-Would you rather have stayed?” _With him._ The words went unsaid.

 

Before she knew what was happening she was surging forwards and stepping in front of him, she grabbed his shirt tightly and he jumped back slightly in surprise. “Every word Fitz, I don’t _want_ to go back… I-“

 

“You have to.” He finished, his voice offering none of its usual warmth. After a couple of moments the tension between them relaxed slightly and he slumped his shoulders, “I didn’t – I didn’t mean for you to see… _that.”_ He gestured at the computer screen still looping him pounding the Portal with his fists. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Fitz you have nothing to be sorry for.” She said, her stomach twisting uncomfortably as he looked anywhere but her eyes. “You rescued me…” Unable to keep looking at him she pushed her head into his chest and stared at the deep blue of his shirt, “On the Bus, under the ocean, from the portal… I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

 

“You don’t owe me anything Jem, if that’s what y-” Fitz began but she thumped him hard.

 

“You’re such an idiot.” She admonished him, incredulous. When he said nothing she melted into the warmth from his chest and added quietly, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

 

“Me too Jem,” He answered cautiously, she could practically hear the cracks in his calm façade slipping into his voice. “I’m glad you’re back.”

 

“Are you?” The words slipped out without her thinking them. He flinched.

 

She waited for him to protest, to tell her she was being silly – to say of course he was happy she was back, but he said nothing. A pained silence fell between them; their physical proximity giving no comfort to the enormous rift that ripped them apart. He had never been closer and further away from her – than in this moment, somehow it hurt less than when he woke up unable to remember who she was. She had no idea how long they were standing next to each other before he finally spoke.

 

“We should talk about… after.” The words came through his gritted teeth as though each syllable pained him.

 

Her heart plummeted. “What do you want to say?” Her best attempt at keeping the tone light did nothing to hide the terror in her voice at where this conversation would go.

 

“We’ll get him back,” He started, then swallowed as he tried to find the right words – not that there were any right words in the circumstances, “We’ll get him back, and then I’m leaving Jem.”

 

Her head felt light and her breathing came in short sharp breaths; she couldn’t imagine her future without Fitz in it – not after she had only just got him back. She had played house on the alien planet to _survive_ ; she cared for Will, loved him even, but that was what it took to survive. On earth, with him in front of her – feeling his racing heart under her fingers – she couldn’t let go of Fitz, not now that she could start _living_ again. Even yet, she couldn’t ask him to stay – she had already asked far too much of him, more than was right to ask anybody. In the end she managed one small word, “Forever?”

 

He exhaled deeply and took a step back, the physical void that opened between them made her feel cold, alone and desperately isolated. Fitz ran his hand through his hair and said simply, “I don’t know… I hope not but I… I-”

 

“You have to.” Jemma said in understanding. For potentially the first time in years she simply spoke her mind, “Fitz, I will always want you to be in my life… _always…_ but I won’t ask you to stay.” She couldn’t ask him to stay, because she knew he would if she did and he had to want to. It wouldn't mean anything if he didn't want to. In the far corner of the lab she could see the footage repeating and somehow she just knew he would give everything for her – he already had. Even now, this was as much for her as it was for him: he was giving her Will and the freedom to love him without the guilt. As he turned to walk past her she called out “Where will you go?”

 

“Home, probably.” He admitted and somehow he had never looked so defeated and shattered as he had then. The walls seemed that bit closer at the idea of him being thousands of miles from her – back on the other planet that would have given her comfort; he would be only a phone call away, but somehow this was worse – because it was his choice. They were both in the same room there and then, they would still be working with each other for weeks to come and yet this felt like a permanent goodbye. “And then, who knows?” He added with an attempt to lighten the mood.

 

“Have you spoken to Coulson?” She asked, some part of her hoping that Coulson would forbid him from leaving because of how valuable he was.

 

“No, but I think he knows…” Fitz said and gestured to the two of them with his hands, “ _This,_ whatever _this_ is between us Jemma, if we keep going - it’ll break us. I’m sure Will will find a way to help out once he’s back – and I’ll probably still consult on cases, I just-”

 

“Won’t be here.” Jemma finished for him. She would have smiled at that if the meaning wasn’t so heart breaking. She let her shoulders slump and leaned against the nearest lab bench for support, instinctively he put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

 

“Get some rest Jemma, you’re exhausted.” She almost protested at his words but he was right, she needed sleep – not that she suspected she’d be able to get any. The man she loved had effectively said his goodbyes to her, she’d lost him.

 

Nodding slowly she walked to the doors of the lab and headed towards her room, her head spinning and ears pounding. She’d lost him. She’d lost him… but she didn’t have to lose him. Just before she left she turned around, one more time, and faced him with all the strength and courage the last six months had taught her she had. She took the phone that had weighed down her pocket for so long and put it on the nearest lab surface. “You’re not the only one with footage, Fitz. You kept me alive out there until you couldn’t; you kept me alive until the thought of losing you was so hard that I would’ve died if I didn’t try to move on. What I feel for Will, it was real – on that planet it was real, because that is what I had to do to survive. Fitz you’ve given up so much to make sure that I lived, living was the last thing I could do for you and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to survive without trying to leave you behind. After everything, dying would have been a worse betrayal... and now we can live.” As she spoke his eyes were impassive, lighting up only briefly when she put the phone in front of him, “Just, watch it… please.”

 

Her words hung heavy between them and, when it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything – that he had so utterly retreated inside himself as to make her unsure he had even heard a thing she had said – she turned and left. By the time she threw herself onto her bunk the rough grasp of sleep gripped her almost instantly. Pausing for only a second to mutter her evening mantra of “Goodnight Fitz, Goodnight Will,” she knew that whatever happened when they rescued Will, her heart belonged and would always belong to her Fitz, and she would do everything she could to let him know; to convince him to stay, or let her go with him.


	2. Bobbi & Skye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off thank you all for the lovely comments - I'm just going to go reply to them now :) They really made my day and gave me a major confidence boost when I was a little uncertain about returning to writing.  
> On that note, as always seems to happen, my two-shot has just expanded into a three shot because I really just enjoy Fitz/Bobbi friendship and Skye/Simmons friendship too much.  
> I hope you enjoy the new chapter, once again I'd love to hear what you think about it. You've all been so amazing.

Part 1: Bobbi

 

When Bobbi found Fitz he was sitting with his back to the side wall of the empty room that had once held the Monolith. By his side was a closed file and a mobile phone that wasn’t his – Bobbi would recognise his one having seen it so often in the lab. She sighed, leaning against the door frame to flex out her knee – the cold air always made it ache and whether because of what had happened here or because the room was poorly heated, containment always felt colder. She quickly sent a text to Daisy to say she’d found him before pocketing her phone and pausing to properly take in the sight before her. Tears shone on his cheeks and his chest trembled with silent sobs; if he knew that she was there he didn’t show any signs of it.

 

“Fitz.” She said quietly and for a moment she wasn’t sure if he heard her as he simply stared vacantly at the opposite wall. After a few moments she walked towards him slowly, cautiously closing the distance between them and then taking a seat next to him on the floor. She grunted involuntarily as she leaned her knee out straight before turning back to Fitz and putting her hand on his leg. “Hey.” She said softly, giving him a reassuring smile.

 

When he did finally turn to look at her Bobbi’s heart broke; in all the months she had spent by his side she had never seen Fitz like this. He looked haunted: his eyes were set deep; bloodshot and red, his hands trembled on his knees in front of him and he looked so exhausted it was as though it was taking all of his effort just to tilt his head towards her. He was lifeless; the fire and grim determination she had watched blaze in him for over six months was gone and the strength that before had rolled off him in waves had all but evaporated. Bobbi had thought she would never be more worried about Fitz than when he had broken into containment and nearly beaten his hands bloody against the Monolith but seeing him now she realised that this was much worse.

 

His voice was hoarse when he spoke, laced with pain, “Simmons?”

 

“She’s fine, she’s still asleep.” Bobbi replied quickly and watched as tension dropped out of Fitz’s shoulders. He leaned his head back against the wall and looked towards the ceiling, screwing his eyes shut as though it would hide the fact he’d been crying.

 

“Good.” He muttered, more to himself than anyone, “That’s good.”

 

“Fitz…” Bobbi began softly but was immediately interrupted.

 

“I’m fine.” He said a little too loudly; he even flashed her a smile as though to prove he was ok but it didn’t reach his eyes, it barely made it halfway up his cheeks. He set his jaw tight and squared his shoulders before wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

 

She switched tact and slowly reached over for the file next to him, when he made no attempt to stop her reading it she opened it and was surprised to find that while some of it was redacted it was clearly a personnel file on an astronaut named Will Daniels, MIA 2001. Given the high level clearance a document like this would take to obtain Bobbi guessed Fitz must have asked Daisy for help, hence her concern. Daisy must have reached the same conclusion that Bobbi had.

 

“Fitz.” Bobbi said this time in a commanding tone, her grip on his leg tightening both to let him know she was there for support and to stop him getting away if he tried. “Who is this?”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Fitz snapped, anger rising up in him. In spite of everything Bobbi felt a small ripple of relief as she saw Fitz’s eyes harden on her and a quick flash of the strength she’d come to associate with him return. As quickly as it had come though it faded and Fitz seemed to collapse in on himself.

 

“Look if not to me then talk to someone,” Bobbi pleaded with him, “Daisy, or Mack.” Even though she had spent almost as much time with Fitz as Mack had now she still felt like an outsider when they were together – something especially curious considering she had known Mack for years. Daisy had known him from before and given how frantic she’d been when she asked for help finding Fitz, Bobbi didn’t doubt she cared deeply for the scientists. She was probably pacing upstairs waiting to find out what was going on – Bobbi figured the walls would start shaking when she got too anxious.

 

“There’s nothing to discuss.” Fitz spat out coldly as though the words were poison to him and rose to his feet, making his way towards the door.

 

“Do you know what happened to him, to Will Daniels?” Bobbi blurted out, trying to stop Fitz from leaving, “Is he why she wants to go back?”

 

Fitz stopped but didn’t turn around and Bobbi couldn’t help wonder if he’d always looked so frail. The idea of him having run solo missions in Iraq and Morocco now sat uncomfortably with her in a way it hadn’t before, she understood Coulson’s reservations. “She…” His voice shook as he struggled to keep his composure. “She loves him.”

 

“Fitz.” Bobbi said softly after a few moments, she could only begin to imagine what he was going through – she had watched him for the last six months fight for a future that wouldn’t exist, she had encouraged him to take Simmons on that date. For the first time in almost as long as she could remember she was stunned, completely and utterly. She pulled herself up to her full height, ignoring the ache from her knee and chest, and pulled him round to face her and into a tight hug. She needed him to know he wasn’t alone.

 

“I’m fine.” Fitz said but he was unconvincing, his voice distant. He neither pulled away from the hug nor fell into it, instead he just stood there letting her arms fall around him.

 

“It’s okay to hurt Fitz.” She said into his ear. “It doesn’t make you weaker, it makes you stronger.”

 

He broke in her arms.

 

Bobbi didn’t know what time it was when Fitz finally pulled himself away from her, six months of pent up despair and anger poured out into the embrace. His eyes were red and sore but underneath she was almost certain she could see a slight flicker of what made him the Fitz she had gotten to know over the last six months. He didn’t say anything but shot her a small smile, something all the more bittersweet as Bobbi realised how rare of an occurrence that truly was. Pausing only to pick up the file and the phone still on the floor he left.

 

 

Part 2: Daisy

 

Daisy watched from the monitor in the kitchen as Fitz sobbed into Bobbi’s shoulder, collapsing into her hug and shaking. The same camera that had caught Jemma being sucked into the portal, Fitz’s attempt to follow her and everything in between now bore witness to Fitz and Bobbi in the empty room. On the one hand Daisy hated intruding on their privacy – she couldn’t hear anything they said but that hardly made her feel any better – on the other she had broken a mug from anxiety when she finally read the NASA files she had hacked for Fitz; the one that had seen him practically bolt out the room like he’d seen a ghost. By the time she had figured out why some man named Will would cause that kind of a reaction Fitz had long gone and she’d had to enlist Bobbi to help find him. When she then couldn’t find either of them she cheated and searched the camera feeds, eventually spotting the two of them in containment – it had seemed like a good way to calm her nerves and served to stop her exploding another mug.

 

As she was crouching down to pick up the last shards from the floor she heard a slight gasp from behind her and turned to find a frightened looking Simmons standing sheepishly at the door.

 

“I thought you were asleep?” Daisy said, pulling herself to her feet and throwing the pieces of her mug into a bin. Even as she spoke she regretted it, the deep shadows under Simmons’ eyes were enough to show she hadn’t slept in some time.

 

If Simmons heard her she ignored the comment and stared instead at something over Daisy’s shoulder, “Is that… live?”

 

Daisy shrugged for a moment, confused, before following Simmons’ gaze and realising she was looking at the feed of Fitz gripping onto Bobbi for support as though she were a life rope and he was drowning. Panicked, Daisy immediately crossed over to the counter and switched off the screen, scolding herself for being so thoughtless, “Jemma I am so sorry.”

 

Simmons strode across the kitchen with alarming speed and practically threw herself at the monitor, “Put it back on, bring him back, bring him back Skye!” She pleaded with a desperation that shook Daisy so much she didn’t bother to correct Jemma’s use of her old name. In the days since Simmons had returned she had been withdrawn and stoic; the fiery neediness with which she pined after Fitz was unlike anything Daisy had witnessed – the last time she had seen her like this was when Fitz finally woke from his coma.

 

Not wanting to prolong her agony a second longer than necessary Daisy reconnected the feed and watched as Jemma pressed her fingers against the screen, tracing around Fitz’s face. Tears streamed down Simmons’ cheeks as she watched him finally let out his emotions and she unsuccessfully tried to stifle a strangled sob. After a few moments Daisy cautiously spoke, “Jemma?”

 

Jemma was so unresponsive at first Daisy almost spoke again but in the moment before she did Jemma quietly stated, “He’s leaving… He’s leaving and it’s my fault…”

 

Daisy would’ve laughed if Jemma wasn’t so serious, “Fitz? Leaving, he only just got you back.” Jemma flinched at her words and Daisy felt like an idiot; of course he would leave, after everything how could he not? _Will Daniels…_

 

“I… I don’t want him to go.” Jemma said, not lifting her eyes from the screen for a moment. Daisy had seen them in the lab together – a heavy silence weighing down and driving them apart as they both did their best to act normal despite everything. She realised this was probably the closest Jemma had come to seeing the real Fitz since before she was pulled into the Monolith.

 

When Daisy had first met Fitzsimmons she had thought that they would always be inseparable – she’d even joked once that they were psychically linked. Watching them over the last year; Fitz’s condition, Simmons leaving, their arguments about the Inhumans and having seen Fitz break down in front of the Monolith - Daisy’s heart ached. She couldn’t help remembering the way they used to be on the Bus; laughing, joking and generally just saying things she would never understand. Of the entire team they had been the least prepared for fieldwork and the dangers of the real world, even more unprepared than she herself had been. It wasn’t fair that they had lost each other again and again. After dancing around the topic for years Daisy finally asked the question.

 

“Do you love him?” Her voice was sharp enough to break Simmons’ concentration on the screen.

 

Simmons stared at her with startled eyes, hesitating for only a moment before answering in a small voice, “Yes.”

 

“And Will?” Daisy asked directly. On the one hand she felt guilty for putting Simmons on the spot but if what Simmons had said was true, and Fitz was leaving them, then the least Daisy could do was push them to sort out their issues before he did. She owed Fitz that, she owed them both that – the knot of guilt had returned in her stomach for being so quick to give up on Simmons.

 

Whatever Jemma had expected Daisy to say it wasn’t that; shock rolled across her face at the discovery that Daisy knew about Will. She instinctively looked back at the footage of Fitz (now pulling himself away from Bobbi and wiping his eyes) before turning back to face Daisy and forcing herself to speak, “I love him as well but it’s – I thought I’d die there, I needed something to keep me going, to work at… I didn’t know…” She trailed off, her eyes drawn to the monitor, “but it’s him Skye, it’s always been Fitz.”

 

Daisy smiled widely at her, on one level because some part of her still marvelled at seeing her friend alive and in front of her but also because she knew how long Fitz had been waiting for Jemma to feel the same way. She looked at the footage of Fitz leaving containment and said, “Go tell him, he deserves that much Jemma.”

 

Jemma’s face lit up in a pained smile, “He deserves so much more than that… more than I can give him…” Her shoulders dropped as she looked towards the floor nervously, “What if, after everything, he still wants to… leave? What if he can’t lov-” She paused to regain her composure before continuing, “What if he doesn’t feel the same way anymore?” She tried not to let the terror in her voice sound but wasn’t convinced she’d succeeded.

 

“If after you tell him he still decides to leave, then that’s his choice Jemma,” Daisy said and, seeing how Simmons seemed to deflate, put a hand on her shoulder, “But he literally crossed the universe to save you, that’s got to count for something right?”

 

“I don’t… How could he still love me? I betrayed him I promised him I wouldn’t give up and I did…” Jemma began; her words were mumbled and difficult to hear through her shakiness.

 

“Hey,” Daisy tried to reassure her, rubbing her thumb in small circles on Simmons’ shoulder, “Nobody thinks that Jemma, Fitz especially – you did what you did to survive, he wouldn’t be helping you if he thought otherwise would he?” When Jemma didn’t answer she continued, “Talk to him Jemma, tonight – tell him how you feel.”

 

Simmons stood motionless for a second before panicking into action; she instinctively pulled her hair back and straightened her hoodie in a well-intentioned but futile attempt to look more presentable – not that it would matter at all to Fitz. Daisy sighed as she watched her already start working out what she would say and put on the same expression she’d wear when trying to figure out the answer to a difficult question. After a few moments of pacing Jemma ran to the door; stopping only briefly to say, “Thanks Skye.”

 

Daisy smiled, “It’s Daisy now, but you’re welcome.”

 

After a brief flash of embarrassment Simmons left, hurriedly setting off to catch up to Fitz before he got back to his bunk. As Daisy leant against the counter in the kitchen she breathed out a deep breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding in and hoped that her two favourite scientists would be able to sort this out – she really didn’t know if the team could stand to take another hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One to go - inevitably it'll be from Fitz's POV, it'll probably take a few days to do as I'm going away to visit family (first time seeing some of them since I went into hospital.) Once again thank you so much for the support - on this and my other fics you're all amazing. I hope you enjoyed this.


	3. Fitz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for 3x07 and 3x08.

_I’ll always be with you Fitz._

Her words still rung in his ears even as he mindlessly traced his way towards his bunk. He didn’t know how she expected him to react to the recordings, or why she would even want him to see them. Fitz cursed and ran his hand across his jaw, somehow the now permanent stubble still felt strange to his touch. It had been easier to think that she and him were never going to work out, before the recordings she never technically agreed to the date and the closest she got to declaring her feelings was her “ _maybe there is,” –_ hardly firm grounds to have based hopes for a relationship. Now though, having heard her talk about how she pictured their dinner – a far cry from how it turned out – and the idea of them growing old together in Perthshire of all places. Having finally let go of his emotions in front of Bobbi exhaustion pounded at his head like the strong winds of a gathering storm. The idea made him smirk in spite of himself – he’d deal with the storm in the morning.

 

“We need to talk.” Jemma’s voice was soft and quiet and yet to Fitz it felt as though she had practically yelled.

 

“You, you’re…” Fitz stammered in a mixture of surprise and exasperation, turning to see her looking slightly out of breath and leaning against the wall, hands pressed deep into the pockets of the hoody she’d taken to wearing since she’d got back. It reminded him of how she used to dress at the Academy, “You’re supposed to be… Go to sleep Jemma.”

 

Jemma took a couple of cautious steps towards him; the strong bulkhead lighting highlighted the deep shadows under her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep.” She said meekly, her eyes focussing somewhere around his collar. Fitz’s heart sank, she looked as shattered as he felt – now wasn’t the time for this.

 

“We’ll speak in the morning, okay?” He tried to sound reassuring but given that she flinched at his words, he guessed he’d failed.

 

“Will we?” She shot back a little harsher than perhaps either of them was expecting, her eyes met his and he saw a spark of something fierce in them. When he began to turn around to keep going to his bunk she pressed on, “So that’s it, you’re just going to run away?”

 

“I’m not running away – I’m just going to bed, I’m exhausted – you are too.” Fitz countered dismissively even though she was right, he was running away – he didn’t want to do this now. What she had said in the recordings, she was delirious, desperate… and now she had Will.

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.” Jemma scolded him. The frailty that had seemed a part of her since she’d returned fell away and for the first time Fitz got a sense not just of his old Simmons back, but of the strength that she must have displayed to survive out there. She grabbed his arm to stop leaving and he wheeled back to face her. “Fitz you don’t get to tell me you’re leaving and then expect me to just sit down and accept it without at least talking it through properly.”

 

“We did talk about it.” He shot back, her strength drawing out his.

 

“No you talked about it! I barely had a moment to take in what you said-” She began, his chest ached as her voice rose so familiarly with her anger. He cut her off.

 

“Christ Jemma, it’s done. I’m not staying, what is there that’s left to discuss?” Fitz spat out much louder than he meant to; he didn’t mean to lash out at her, he wasn’t even angry, he just felt cornered.

 

“Fitz I lov-” She started to say but he promptly interrupted her.

 

“Don’t say it!” Fitz yelled. When she simply stared at him in a stunned silence he said again quieter, “Please don’t say it.”

 

“Why not?” Her voice was small again, if he didn’t know better he’d have said she was afraid.

 

“Jemma!” He warned in little more than a growl.

 

“Fitz, why not?” She asked him, strength underpinning the question as she pressed forward. Every time they spoke now it seemed to be a battle of masks – or shields, if you would – the moment either of them went near any conversation that threatened to break the uneasy truce between them the other would shut down. Fitz could see from her expression she had no intention of letting him off the hook.

 

“Because…” He mumbled, unsure if he was searching for an answer or simply a way out of the conversation.

 

“Because?” She pushed him, her eyes narrowed as if trying to read the expression on his face.

 

He held her gaze with his own, steeling himself under her scrutiny; he had never been able to stand against her ire before – not really – but he was different now, he’d changed. His voice shook lowly as he said something she’d once put to him just a few rooms away, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this… excuse me.”

 

Her shoulders fell slumped as he pulled away from her and even as he turned he saw the the recognition of those words turned back on her flicker across her face. It tore him apart to leave her in the corridor, eyes glistening with unshed tears and seemingly bereft but he couldn’t handle it anymore – he told himself things would be better when he’d left, they needed time apart. The scientific part of his brain had already started running possibilities for his future – after returning to Scotland he could pretty much do anything; teach, research, he was almost certain Coulson could get him a meeting with Tony Stark or, if he wanted to keep working with SHIELD, he could join the ATCU as a sort of inside intelligence gatherer. If the circumstances weren’t what they were he’d almost be excited about the future, even if Jemma was no longer a part of it.

 

His resolve held until he heard her first sob and his feet rooted themselves to the ground. He had managed to turn around and take his first few steps but that sound, who had he been trying to fool? Fitz had never been able to choose him over her, not when it came to it. The logical part of him screamed to keep walking and move forward but even as he considered how much easier it would be to shut himself away in his bunk for the night he knew that he wouldn’t. When he faced her again he read the range of expressions that shot across her; sadness, embarrassment, fear and something akin to hope.

 

“What…” He began quietly, running a hand through his hair, “What do you want to talk about?” Fitz winced at how lame it sounded after everything they’d already said but pressed on anyway, hesitantly taking a small step towards her, “Perhaps we should, erm, get a drink or something?”

 

Jemma’s face broke into a teary smile as she half laughed half cried at Fitz’s attempts to look after her, his heart lifted a little at the sight but her expression darkened and she took a step away. The pained confusion set into a grim determination and suddenly her entire posture changed as she scrutinised him, eyes bearing into his skin with a ferocity that reminded him how she’d managed to survive on the alien planet... one of the ways she’d managed to survive anyway. “I’m sorry Fitz,” She said, “I didn’t understand but now…”

 

“Simmons?” He asked cautiously, not following her sudden shift from being desperate to talk about things to these apologetics.

 

“You have to stop.” She said calmly and resignedly with a tone of voice that suggested she’d suddenly discovered something awful – like writing the conclusions to a failed experiment, “It’s too much.”

 

“Jemma?” The worry in him bled through in his tone.

 

“You’d do anything for me.” She stated, taking another step backwards. It wasn’t a question. “You’d do _anything_ , you don’t want me to tell you how I feel because you’d stay… you would, wouldn’t you?” When Fitz shifted on his feet uncomfortably but said nothing she let out a deep breath and continued, “Fitz, say something…” She half asked, half begged. He opened his mouth to speak but the words caught in his throat. “For once will you just say something!” She yelled loud enough to shock him and pushed him back with force enough to almost knock him over.

 

“Are you seriously mad at me?” He asked in exasperation at her fury.

 

She seemed to collapse in on herself as she turned away and said clinically, “No Fitz, not really… I’m mad at myself for roping you into this – it’s not fair, and I’m mad that you’re so willing to help.”

 

“As oppose to what? What do you expect?” Fitz asked, suddenly defensive.

 

“I don’t know, get angry!” She faced him, “You’d do anything for me – despite everything, even when I left you Fitz – at Hydra… and on the other side even when I promised you…” She trailed off for a moment before raising her voice, “How do you not hate me? And _why_ aren’t you angry?” She yelled at him again, the fire behind her pupils hot enough to burn them both.

 

For the second time that night he broke, “You think I’m not angry?” He spat out at her with enough conviction to make her jaw tense, “I’m sick to my stomach, I’m furious but not at you! Don’t you see? I can’t hate you Jemma because I can’t stop loving you… but we’re cursed, the bloody cosmos wants us to be apart!” He could feel himself practically shaking as he levelled with her.

 

“The cosmos doesn’t want anything Fitz.” Jemma automatically retorted but Fitz couldn’t shake the thought that she seemed to inflate a little at his declaration, he brushed it off as wishful thinking.

 

“Yeah well I beg to differ, because we had years side by side, it never occurred to us; and then when it does we don’t have the courage to talk about it.” The anger slipped from his voice to reveal the despair that belied it.

 

“Well you only mentioned it at the bottom of the sea facing certain death.” She shot back but he wouldn’t let her finish.

 

“And you wait until I’m bound for a war on an aircraft carrier and then you get swept off to some far flung planet… with _him_!” He shook with frustration and rage at the injustice of their situation. “And how could you not love him? Top marks, pilot, astronaut, hero-man. He’s strong and smart and you gave each other hope on the edge of nowhere. You think I didn’t look for dirt on him, I did and there’s nothing. I can’t hate him he’s great; why else would you fall for him? He did everything right.”

 

“And you dove through a hole in the universe for me!” She shouted, cutting off his trail of thought. “I’ve told you before you’re the hero Fitz; you didn’t give up on me long after I gave up on you… you’ve never given up on me even after all–”

 

Whatever it was she was about to say Fitz didn’t know; he honestly didn’t know how they had gotten as close to each other as they had. His eyes dropped downs to her lips and his blood pounded in his ears from finally confronting the reality of his world, the words that she’d said in her recordings, the emotional need for closeness after breaking down in front of Bobbi. He pressed forwards and kissed her, hard. In all the time he imagined their first proper kiss it was nothing like this – in his mind they’d have been smiling and laughing, gradually tilting their heads towards one another until their lips softly touched and lingered. That kind of a kiss would have taken place somewhere nice; under a sunset or heck he’d even pictured it in the restaurant he’d taken her to. This kiss though was anything but chaste, it was years of passion pressed into one possessive urge to show her exactly what he felt about her, and exactly why he had to go. He realised even as he kissed her, gripping her waist and pushing her against the wall, that this was what it would take for him to move on for good; this was his closure.

 

When they broke apart, lips lightly swollen and faces flushed, he braced himself for her rejection, for her anger, but none came. His brow unknotted and reknotted in confusion when instead of the slap he’d half expected or the sudden cold shoulder she leant forward and pressed her lips to his in one fluid, controlled movement. Her hands traced around his neck as she kissed him with every bit of the passion and feeling he had shown her. It was everything he had ever wanted for them both, the feel of her lips on his was exhilarating and her taste at once so foreign and familiar. When they reluctantly separated for air his heart felt like it was bursting with joy and dying all at once. He didn’t even realise that he said the words “We’re cursed,” out loud but as he stepped away he couldn’t deny the truth in his heart. “I don’t want to leave, but you know why I have to.”

 

“Don’t,” She said, her hand reaching out to grip his arm to stop him from walking away, “Stay.”

 

“It’s not that simple.” He said, breath hitching at the sensations from her touch as her grip loosened from a tough hold to a reassuring presence, her thumb tracing circles around the inside of his wrist.

 

“It is that simple Fitz, I love you.” Seeing his disbelieving look, she pushed on, “I am _in_ love with you. I can’t picture my life without you at my side; I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.” He was frozen, she was saying the words that he’d only ever dreamed of her saying and yet he felt nothing – he wouldn’t allow himself to feel anything. “You once told me we could figure it out together, right?” When he didn’t answer and an uneasy silence filled the space she seemed to drop in on herself, coldly – and perhaps even childishly – stating, “I don’t want you to go. Stay.”

 

She had never looked more beautiful to him, declaring her love and flushed from their hot exchange of kisses and yet everything felt wrong. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for whatever new event the universe had up its sleeve to tear them apart again and he knew that if they kept on down this route and split again that he wouldn’t recover. He felt what little was left of his defence mechanisms kicking in as he rationally explained away Simmons’ behaviour and gave them both an out before things could go any further past the point of no return than they already had, “You don’t know what you want right now Simmons - you’re still recovering…"

 

“Recovering!” Jemma scoffed at his patronising tone, evidently offended not only that he didn’t believe her but also that he was treating her so clinically all of a sudden. She had witnessed the moment his gaze had shifted from one of pure wanton love and lust to the mask that he’d been wearing ever since she told him about Will. Then, to her surprise, the mask slipped.

 

“I can’t do it Jemma!” His eyes brimmed with tears as his defence mechanisms buckled under the strain of having kissed the woman he loved for ten years knowing that she expected him to reunite her with another man, “I said I’d help you and I will, but I can’t stay... after.”

 

“Why not?” She asked loud enough she expected the entire Playground had heard most of their conversation, given it was happening right outside of the bunks anyone that had been sleeping was almost certainly awake though, she noted with some relief, clearly thought better of interrupting them right now.

 

“You even have to ask?” Fitz cried out exhausted and pained, “You know why… you know how I feel about you – the way I’ve always felt about you, now more than ever.” He added in reference to their finally having kissed, “And I’m not going to stay here and watch you choose him, I just can’t.”

 

“Then I’ll leave!” She fired back vehemently, her words seemingly surprising herself as much as him.

 

“Jemma?” He asked in shock, the strength of his voice gave way to his confusion at the sudden change in direction of the conversation.

 

“This is your home Fitz; I’m not going to take that away from you. You can’t keep giving up everything for me; you have a life here.” She was resolute in her argument and displayed that same strength he had come to expect when he looked at her, the strength he had come to love.

 

“It’s your life too.” He answered half-heartedly, he wasn’t sure he had enough energy left to keep fighting – he had no interest in staying here without her, not when everything would remind him of her.

 

“Is it?” She asked coldly, he sensed he’d touched a nerve, “I’m a stranger here Fitz – I don’t belong anymore, everything’s different:Coulson’s changed, my therapist’s a serial killing monster, Skye’s not even Skye anymore and without you there’s nothing for me here… As if I’d stay without you… _”_ She looked hurt and vulnerable, he cursed at how common it was to see her crying nowadays and thought wistfully back to the simpler times on the BUS and at Sci-Ops.

 

He sighed resignedly, “It’ll just take some getting used to that’s all.” He didn’t even know why he was continuing to talk about this with her, she’d stay once he left he was sure of it.

 

“I don’t want to get used to it if you’re not here.” As though sensing what he was thinking she defiantly repeated, “I won’t stay without you.”

 

“You’ll have Will.” He stated quietly, instantly regretting his words as she practically burst into tears again in front of him.

 

“Fitz I just told you that I love you, and I do – I love you so much the thought of losing you makes my chest want to explode… you think I’d choose him over you?” She cocked her head to one side as though trying to see what he was thinking, desperately trying to make him believe her.

 

“Didn’t you already?” There was spite in his tone that caught him off guard and made him feel uneasy with himself. They were both wrecked, emotionally exhausted and he hoped she knew he didn’t really mean it – she herself had told him many times of his legendary grumpiness when he was tired.

 

“That’s not fair Fitz.” She said but the lack of force behind her words told him she’d already forgiven him – his regret was written all over his face.

 

“It wasn’t.” He conceded, the guilt sapping the edge from his voice and adding sincerity to his apology. “I’m sorry Jemma, I really am…” He paused wondering if he should continue and looked at her expectant face. He made one last ditch effort to plead his case and hoped she’d understand before he no longer had the strength to say it, “You know what I wanted for us… you have to understand why I need to go.”

 

“I want what you want too Fitz, I want _you_ too.” She told him and all the hurt and the anger and the spite of the last few minutes slipped away. “You heard my recordings?” She looked at him for signs that he had and he attempted once more to give them an out.

 

“You were tired, dehydrated and…” He began but she cut him off.

 

“I was as clear headed then as I've ever been… as I am now.” She said as she leant forward and brought their heads close, “You know what _I_ wanted for us… that little cottage in Perthshire?”

 

He found himself grinning in spite of himself, in spite of what he still fully expected he would have to do he let himself have that moment, “You know that’s in Scotland right?”

 

She laughed and he felt her breath against his mouth as she leant closer, “I know where it is Fitz… and it’s what I want, so now _you_ have to understand why you need to stay.”

 

Her lips ghosted his and it took absolutely everything not to lose himself to the urge that had driven him to press her against the wall with his own passion minutes earlier, he tilted his mouth away but pressed their foreheads together to keep the contact. “You can’t decide this now.”

 

“Fitz.” She whispered in protest.

 

“No.” He answered her firmly, but not harshly, “If we bring him back and you… I won’t, I can’t…” He trailed off, choked up and screwed his eyes shut unable to look at her. He set his jaw harder and swallowed back, summoning up all the strength he could muster to keep his voice level, “I love you Jemma Simmons, I love you so much… you’re right, I would do anything for you – including letting you go. If we bring him back and you decide…”

 

“Decide what Fitz?” She asked even though she already knew the answer. He could tell that this was hurting her, he wanted nothing more than to snog her senseless and drag her into his bunk just a few feet away but he had to do this – for both of them. He pulled himself away from her and even though they were still closer than usual the space between them felt chasmic.

 

“What happens to me when we bring him back and you decide it’s him you love?” His steady voice broke and all his fear and insecurity gave a hard edge to his words, “…that it was him the whole damned time?”

 

Jemma stepped back, alarmed and hurt in equal measure at the sudden anger in his voice. “I…”

 

“Would you leave with him? Settle down, have a family…” His voice dropped, “…move to Perthshire,” it turned wistful before it grew rougher sharply, “Or worse… would you stay with me? And with every forlorn glance I’d live knowing you regretted your choice, knowing you’d be happier with him but that I’m not strong enough to let you go, and you’re too loyal to the friendship that was to leave.” By the end of his speech there was no malice in his words, just sheer unbridled fear and although he wouldn’t know it, Simmons had never been more heartbroken and angry than at that moment – both at herself for having driven him to this level of self doubt that he would not accept her love, and at him for his stubbornness.

 

She slapped him, hard.

 

“Leopold Fitz!” She practically yelled in a tone that left him more stunned than her hand, “Listen to me carefully because I’m only going to say this once.” Like he had moments earlier she steeled herself and set her jaw before continuing, “I never thought I would make it back. What I felt for Will… it was about _surviving_ , I really believed I was going to die there, alone and he… it just made it a little less awful.”

 

“You don’t have to explain it Jem.” Fitz tried interrupting her and apologising again but she wouldn’t accept it, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you; this isn’t your fault.”

 

“You’re not listening!” She said fiercely, her eyes blazing, “You’ve been there; you saw what it was like on my phone and with your own eyes. I didn’t have a Monolith Fitz, I didn’t get the chance to throw myself blindly at it but don’t for one second think that I would have hesitated at doing exactly what you did if it meant having the slightest chance at getting back to you.”

 

“Jemma.” He started but again she spoke over him.

 

“I’m not done!” She scolded, blinking past her tears and pressing on, “I spoke to you while I was out there, I had a photo on my phone and it just… I couldn’t count how many times I stared at it for or for how long… Sometimes it almost felt like you were with me, and then I had to choose to use what was left of the battery to try and get home to _you_ – and when it didn’t work I had given you up for nothing it was the worst day of my life…” She took in a deep breath and steadied herself slightly.

 

“Don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know what I’m feeling, or that I’m incapable of making my choice. Will… He’ll always be special to me, yes, in some way I’ll love him but it wasn’t real. It was just to survive.” She took his hand, pressing it against her chest so he could feel her pounding heart, “This… this is real, how I feel about you is real – everything I’ve said to you has been true Fitz, every word. You are what I wanted to survive for… and that’s never going to change… _ever_ … So stop trying to be so bloody noble and either stay here with me or we can both leave together!”

 

He stood in silence for a moment as the weight behind all her words and actions finally set in, the stinging on his cheek was drowned out by the stinging inside his skull at the turn of events. When he finally spoke, his tears having ran cold against his cheeks, he quietly asked, “You… you really love me?”

 

Despite everything Jemma let out an affectionate laugh at his stubbornness and said with a tear soaked grin, “Yes Leo, God help us both I love you.”

 

He found himself smiling at her as he closed the gap between them and brought his hand to her cheek. When she leant into his palm his expression darkened slightly as he mumbled sheepishly, “I’m _scared_ Jemma, what happens if we… when he gets back?”

 

He braced himself for a look of annoyance or anger in her face but was met with boundless understanding, she knew him – she put her own hand on his cheek, gently tracing her finger across the reddened skin from where she had marked him. “Fitz, if you really, truly, want to give us a shot, then you have to trust that I love you and you have to let him go. If you can’t then… then perhaps you should leave, because this fear – that’s the only thing that’ll break us apart, not Will, not the bloody Cosmos... I’m in all the way if you are Fitz,” He felt her tense as she said the words, “Can you trust me?”

 

_I’ll always be with you Fitz._

 

Leopold Fitz did something didn’t need to think, “Yes.”

 

She grinned widely, “Then stop moping about and kiss me again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, done! Phew. Working with rolling canon is always tricky so I hope you enjoyed the adaptions and twisting required to make this all fit with the original outline I came up with. They kissed on the show at last! The reviews on this fic have been awesome, please let me know what you thought of the ending - I tried to handle them both sympathetically and in a way that fully resolved the problems between them. I probably won't be writing for a while as someone I know has passed away and I need some time to grieve, leaving reviews would be appreciated now more than ever - fellow writers know how much they mean creatively and personally. Please let me know if you enjoyed and are happy with where it left off.


	4. Epilogue

_Jemma_

 

She could feel his heart beating through the fabric of his shirt; a soft and gentle thrumming that she couldn’t hear enough of. She had barely had to tell him to kiss her before his lips were pressed hard against hers and she was pressed into the wall, that she’d probably have bruises against her back in the morning meant nothing as they gave way to the intensity of their feelings. All the anger and hurt and pain of years of dancing around each other and pushing apart gave strength to them as they fought a savage war of teeth and tongues; they had been through too much together and apart for their union to be anything less than them demonstrating the sheer, primitive need for the other. His lips on her neck, her nails at the base of his spine; marks that would prove it was real in the morning, that they weren’t going back.

 

Over time their passions ebbed and flowed; the need for breath changed the rhythm of their kisses and the desperation was replaced with the simple joy of finding their lost kinship. The pressure on Simmons’ back eased as they held one another upright, their wandering hands stilled as they fell into the comfort of the tight embrace. Their battered lips finally pulled apart as she rested her head on his shoulder and he leaned into her hair, swaying lightly as though to some inaudible music. Their earlier forcefulness forgotten she lightly skimmed the pads of her fingers over the base of his spine, her hands having slipped under his shirt. She felt ashamed to feel small pricks of blood from where she had gripped him so tightly when they started but if he minded he didn’t show it, frankly she wasn’t sure he had even noticed.

 

It wasn’t long until his shoulders started to slump and his head dropped lower and she finally pulled back to take in his exhausted expression; she wasn’t sure how she’d missed it but he had gotten so gaunt recently, his once boyish face now a mixture of hard edges and deep shadows. She could see in his eyes he didn’t want to break them apart but she doubted he’d be able to stand for that much longer. Reluctantly peeling herself from his arms – giving him a reassuring smile as she did so to alleviate the immediate look of alarm that passed across him – she took one of his hands and led him into his bunk, trying to ignore the feeling of guilt when she saw the poor state of his room and the piles of scrawled notes over every available surface on the Monolith and the planet that took so much from them both. Her heart sank when she noticed the suitcases in the corner, a bitter reminder of his intent to leave.

 

As they approached the bed he froze seemingly becoming aware of how messy the room was and suddenly shy despite how passionately they had been making out just half an hour earlier. He made a vague effort to tidy up before she caught his arm and pulled him into a hug, leading them both towards the single mattress against the far wall. His eyes were oddly fearful as he opened his mouth to say something but he never found the words. As they both collapsed onto the bed together she buried herself tightly into him and brought the covers up around them both; she hadn’t intended to stay the night with him – they both needed sleep, proper sleep – but she just couldn’t bring herself to let go, not even for a moment. She chided herself mentally but his words rang in her ears; that some unstoppable force was trying to pull them apart. It might have seemed childish but in that moment she wouldn’t let him away from her, she needed him – they needed each other.

 

That was how she found herself listening to the gentle thrumming of his heart through his shirt, curled up together in his bunk. She felt her eyes begin to shut of their own accord when Fitz swallowed dryly and asked softly, “You’re… staying?” His chest vibrated as he spoke and when she pulled her heavy head up to look at him she saw the same fear she herself had been feeling, he was terrified she’d go and that things would just reset.

 

“Are you?” She asked back, not referring to the bed. A small knot of doubt and worry was still seeded in her that he would leave, even after everything. Fitz was nothing if not stubborn.

 

“As long as you’ll have me.” He answered, returning her own words from earlier.

 

“You might regret saying that… after sixty years or so,” she teased as she squeezed his chest and felt his arm reflexively fall on her shoulder, bringing her into him possessively.

 

“Never,” He whispered into her ear, her heart melted as he leaned back into the pillow and looked up to the ceiling. After several comfortable moments of silence he spoke again, softly and sleepily but determined, “You know, I talked to you too… after I woke up…”

 

“I know.” She said truthfully. When she came back from Hydra she’d been alarmed that he spoke to himself, and every time he looked at her it was like he didn’t believe she was real. It hadn’t taken long for her to realise that he wasn’t just mumbling to himself aimlessly, he was replying – holding one half of an impossible conversation. She never really understood it until she ended up stranded on the planet alone; talking to a picture of Fitz on her phone as if he was there with her.

 

“You do?” There was genuine surprise in his voice, she couldn’t help but let out a caring laugh. He was too endearing.

 

“It didn’t take a genius to figure it out, and we are both geniuses.” She teased but then felt herself remembering how he was back then; so nervous and insecure and utterly unwilling to speak to her. It was at once so achingly familiar and yet completely different to being around the Fitz underneath her now. She closed her eyes to breathe him in, reassured by his physical presence, and admitted how she had felt back then, “I was actually jealous of her, you know?”

 

“Of who?” He asked, his tiredness evident from the thickness of his voice.

 

“The Simmons in your head, the one you talked to instead of me, the one that stayed behind to look after you when I…” She said quietly, tears beginning to drip down her cheeks at the mistakes she’d made, not for the first time she wondered what exactly she’d done to deserve the affection of her Leo.

 

“Jemma,” He said, his hand gently rubbing her shoulder affectionately.

 

“I just…” She said, her voice failing her as the fear that had eaten her for so long rose inside her, “I mean… she stayed, you had a perfect me in your head – and then Mack… how could I compare?”

 

He scooped her closer to him and pressed kisses into her hair, “Ah Jem, you have nothing to worry about,” he breathed into her ear, “I love you.” When she let out a silent sob he continued, “the real you…” He ran small circles over her skin with his hands as he calmed her, jokingly adding, “Besides… the you in my head wasn’t nearly as sexy as…”

 

She laughed and pushed at one of his arms playfully, rolling so that she was looking at the ceiling and his arms could rest around her waist. She ran her hands over his and their fingers locked. Feeling the gentle rising and falling of his chest against her back she knew there was no other place she would rather be than there, it was perfect… and yet somehow like a pestering thought that wouldn’t die she couldn’t help but feel she didn’t deserve it. “I just don’t understand how you can still love me, I mean after… ”

 

“Jemma,” He said authoritatively with the hard edge to his tone that she’d come to expect in the past few weeks, “you’re just going to have to trust me that I do.” She flinched as he pulled her upwards slightly and pressed a kiss on her collar bone, “Can you do that for me… trust me?”

 

This was the man that risked everything to help her on the BUS when she was infected, that gave her hope at the bottom of the ocean and that literally crossed the universe to bring her home. How could she not trust him? “Of course.”

 

 

_Daisy_

 

 _Footage_ … Daisy thought as she stared at the computer screen, _Somehow it always came down to footage… Jemma’s phone, the Monolith tapes and now,_ she observed with a mixture of happiness and horror, _the cameras from the Lab_. Sprawled out on the middle of one of the tables Fitzsimmons were, well, _Fitzsimmonsing…_ not the cute adorable psychically linked Fitzsimmonsing she had come to expect from them ever since she’d met them on the BUS, no this was very much a physical link and a _very physical_ one at that _,_ she thought with a scoff as she prepared to delete the recording, eyes passing over towards the bottle of wine and sorry note Fitz had left when he asked her to wipe the camera… again... _He owes me big time…_

 

She had no idea whether she should be happy that they had finally got themselves together or mortified that her adorable and sweet scientists were anything but adorable and sweet when it came down to it… they were outrageously passionate... On some level she refused to acknowledge the slight pang of jealousy she felt for the strength of their relationship; at first she, like everyone else, assumed that they would return to their more professional appearances at least in public after a few weeks but it was more common to find them with their clothing muffled looking breathless with mussed hair and swollen lips than it was to find them working – she wasn’t really sure the awkwardness of walking in on them was much better than the awkwardness that had filled the lab when they were hardly speaking, but at least they were happy… perhaps even too happy.

 

Sighing as the delete bar hit 100% and the footage was wiped clean she shut down her laptop and walked into the main Playground compound. She laughed to herself as she saw Fitz and Simmons in the kitchen making tea and paused by long enough to raise an eyebrow at Fitz and watch him blush as she wordlessly confirmed she’d deleted it. He mouthed _thanks_ before running a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly and then turning back to Simmons. Daisy grinned at the pair of them and began her walk over to Zephyr One to meet Mack and discuss the state of their team’s candidates. She was almost at the hangar when she ran into a somewhat flustered looking Coulson.

 

“Daisy,” He said in his no-nonsense _I am the director_ voice.

 

“AC?” She asked, mentally noting that she really should say DC now instead but something just didn’t feel right about calling him that.

 

“We’ve got a problem – Koenig’s worried there’s a virus in our system; apparently the security feeds keep intermittently disrupting, see what you can do?” He asked before heading towards his office.

 

“I’ll take a look,” She said, barely able to stifle a grin as she watched him walk up the corridor wracked with the weight of leadership and concerned about the security of his base.

 

 _Yep..._  She thought to herself as she changed direction to Koenig, _Fitz owes me big time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you go, I thought I'd add a short epilogue to round it off a bit more smoothly - there was a lot of emotion in Chapter 3 so I thought this might resolve things on a happy and (surprisingly for me) vaguely humorous note. I really hope you enjoyed, please leave a review if you can spare the time - it's not very often I dabble in comedy so tell me if it worked or didn't, either way a bit of fluff never hurt anyone :)  
> Thanks all for the lovely support of this fic and my other writings, you've probably gathered I'm having a difficult time of late and your words mean so much :)

**Author's Note:**

> Once again please review - this is my first writing since I've come out of hospital and it takes an enormous amount of energy to do this in my current state, reviews really make this worthwhile and I'd love to know what you think.  
> (Trivia, I study at the Faculty of Classics, University of Cambridge and couldn't resist throwing in that tiny in Chapter 1)


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